Desperation
by azure cuisine
Summary: Harry can't stand the thought of losing anyone else after Sirius dies. Draco's world is shattered after Lucius is imprisoned. Can two lost souls help each other heal? Slash, DM/HP. Chapter 2 up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** First off, I'd like to thank juliadw for being my beta on this!

This is an alternate sixth year. Hope you enjoy it. And be patient… I'm actually trying to take my time with character development! Reviews and concrit are always welcome.

**Warnings:** Lack of Draco in Chapter One.

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, not me. No money being made here.

**Chapter One:**

**Numb**

Harry sat silently, staring out the window of his bedroom at number four, Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon's blustering voice carried up from the kitchen, interspersed with Aunt Petunia's shrill remarks. Thankfully, Harry didn't seem to be a topic of discussion today; he could remain in his room, and his family would ignore his existence. Strange, how life could seem so normal when in _his_ world everything was erupting in chaos. And Sirius was gone.

The sunlight streaming into his room was too bright and warm. With a sigh, he pulled down the shade and flung himself on the bed. Hedwig hooted softly from her cage. She looked worried, or as worried as an owl could look. Hard to tell, with her face covered in feathers.

"I'm all right, girl. Just… thinking about Sirius, is all." He rolled onto his stomach.

_I wish I were somewhere else. Away from the Dursleys, just… somewhere I didn't have to think about them._

_I wish I were with Sirius._

And that was the problem, wasn't it? Sirius was gone, because of Harry's recklessness, and they'd never get any real time together. They'd never get to be a real family–

…_it's my fault…_

He sighed again, then deliberately pushed his godfather from his mind and picked up a letter from the table next to his bed. An invitation to spend the summer at the Burrow, with the Weasleys. In August, Hermione would join them on their annual trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies. According to the letter, Mr. Weasley would be picking him that evening, and Apparate him out. And of course, he wasn't to worry about anything; the Order had made sure the Burrow was as safe as it possibly could be. Much safer than staying with the Dursleys—at the Burrow, Harry could be magically protected without worry of Muggles seeing something they shouldn't. Ron and Ginny were looking forward to seeing him again, Fred and George were going to try to get a bit of time off from their incredibly successful new shop, and Bill was swearing to, at the very least, escort them to King's Crossing. Harry could almost hear the disgust in Mrs. Weasley's words when she mentioned that Bill's fiancée, Fleur, looked forward to seeing him, too.

It really was everything he could hope for. Any other summer, he would have been through the roof, packed and ready to go. But in the whole, chatty letter, they didn't once ask what _he_ wanted.

_And to be perfectly honest, I don't _want_ to go. Guess that makes me ungrateful…_

They'd check up on him, _constantly._ And all he wanted was to be left alone. If he could just be left alone, he wouldn't have to feel so much. He could distance himself. And if he wasn't attached to people, he'd stop _losing_ the people he cared about. Or, at least it wouldn't be his fault when someone… left.

He hadn't bothered answering the letter

With an effort, Harry closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the ice growing in his chest. It numbed him, insulating him so that he could function. Barely. But without the ice, he was paralyzed in his grief and guilt. So he froze, pushing away the warmth. He deserved the cold, and it was so _good _not to feel anymore…

Without noticing, Harry slipped into dreams of a frozen wasteland, desolate and barren, empty of all life. Just snow and ice, surrounding him in all directions and so very peaceful. He could disappear here forever…

xxxxx

He woke suddenly, feeling searing heat on his shoulder. Harry yelped and leapt away from the source, then felt foolish when he saw Arthur Weasley's surprised face.

"Harry, you're like ice." The man's voice was filled with concern. "You shouldn't fall asleep with the window open like that." Mr. Weasley looked slightly puzzled. No wonder; it was a remarkably balmy night. There was no reason Harry should have been so cold.

"'M fine," Harry said. "I'll just get my things…"

"No need. You looked so tired I didn't want to disturb you. I've already sent all your things ahead. If you're ready, we can go now," Mr. Weasley paused, then continued tentatively. "Of course, if you want to say good-bye to your family…" He let the sentence taper off, clearly waiting for a response.

Harry felt the ice starting to crack at the thought of his so-called _family._ "Yeah, just give me a minute. Should probably tell them I'm going." _Not that they'd notice I'm gone. I'm sure they'll be glad to be rid of me. _He took a steadying breath, summoning the cold to him again. _I am ice…_

Safely cocooned in the ice, Harry opened the door and went downstairs. His aunt and uncle were in the living room. They fell silent and looked up at him when he drifted into the room. The three stared at each other for a moment.

Harry took a deep breath. "So. I'm going away for the summer." His voice was cold, emotionless… frozen, just like the rest.

Glaring, Uncle Vernon said, "Be back, will you?"

"Not this summer," Harry replied evenly. "Not 'til next summer."

His uncle just glared at him.

_Probably deciding if getting rid of me is worth giving me something I want. Maybe I should tell him I'd rather stay here this year—_

"Fine." Uncle Vernon's harsh voice interrupted his thoughts. "But don't you go changing your plans. I don't want to adjust _our_ plans again to accommodate an ungrateful whelp like you. In fact…"

Harry was up the stairs before his uncle finished. "Let's go," he said to Arthur.

Mr. Weasley opened his mouth, then closed it again. He nodded, and asked, "Need anything else?" When Harry just shook his head, Mr. Weasley put his arm around the boy's shoulders and Apparated them both away.

xxxxx

_It's not so bad, _Harry thought a week later. _In fact, it's really nice—if I overlook how I have to freakin' _hide_ to get a moment's peace._

At that moment, Harry _was_ hiding. Under his bed. With his school chest pulled between him and the rest of the room, and wrapped in his father's invisibility cloak. Holding his breath, because Ginny was on her hands and knees, looking right at him.

Another pair of feet entered the room, and he heard Ron ask, "Any sign of him?"

Ginny pushed herself off the ground. "No," she said. "I can't find him _anywhere." _Her voice rose slightly. "What if… You-Know-Who got him?"

For the briefest moment, Harry felt guilty for making her worry. But—

_I didn't ask to come here. All I want is a little time alone; can't I even have _that? He felt a sob building in his chest, and choked it back. Ice, he had to remember to be ice…

Embraced by the perfect chill, he was able to listen in on his friends again.

"… So you see, there's no way that You-Know-Who could have gotten past half the Order _and_ the wards Dumbledore set." Ron sounded unusually sure of himself, and a moment later, Harry learned the reason. "Hermione knows what she's talking about, yeah? So relax. He's probably outside. You _know _Mum's been after him to get out."

And that was another problem. Harry really didn't need Mrs. Weasley badgering him all the time.

_So what if I'm not feeling very social? I just lost Sirius! _He blinked sudden tears away, listening to Ron and Ginny's footsteps heading downstairs. Only when he was sure they were gone could he relax, and let the tears fall.

xxxxx

He'd managed to hide the rest of the day, although it had meant going without supper. Not that it was so hard to do—he'd had plenty of practice living with the Dursleys, after all. Besides, mealtimes were the hardest. The whole family gathered around the table, talking and laughing, and it was just too much to deal with. And Mrs. Weasley never failed to pile his plate with food, telling him he was going to waste away…

Every day, he hid for longer and longer periods. Every night, he lay awake in bed, shivering with the desire to run away. To go somewhere where the people weren't sunshine and cheer, where he didn't have someone constantly trying to brighten his mood. Somewhere he could harden his shield of ice, so it wouldn't melt and leave him open. So he wouldn't endanger anyone else by rushing foolishly in.

Ron was mumbling in his sleep again. Harry ignored him, forcing himself to push his friend out of his mind. For the hundredth time that day he pictured ice, growing and filling the void left behind when Sirius vanished. He let the cold ease him to sleep, back to the familiar dream of snow.

xxxxx

Harry stared at the letter he had just received, hands trembling.

_Dear Harry,_

_I would like to express my sincere wish that you are having a peaceful, if not happy, birthday. I know that the events of the last year have been difficult, and I know also that this coming year will hold still more challenges. I am, however, confident that you can overcome those challenges with your usual proficiency._

_I will visit you later today, as there is a matter of some delicacy regarding Sirius' legacy that I must discuss with you in person._

_I am most sincerely yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry couldn't think, could hardly breathe, through the haze of rage. How could Dumbledore even _think_ about Sirius' _legacy?_ Didn't he know that Sirius would come back?

_He _will_ come back, I'll find him and help him come back…_ Harry's thoughts swirled dizzyingly through his mind, flashing by too quickly for him to catch more than the barest essence: he refused to give up on Sirius. Even if everybody else had.

Harry struggled to push down the emotions that threatened to engulf him, fought to regain the wintery calm. After what seemed like hours, he managed to wrap his thoughts in a snowy blanket once more. It almost smothered the frantic voice that begged not to be left alone again.

xxxxx

Dumbledore arrived at the Burrow at precisely half past six that evening. Mrs. Weasley had been cooking all day and was just about to cut into an extravagant cake when a slight _pop_ announced the headmaster's arrival. When he came into the house, Harry felt his earlier rage stirring sluggishly inside him, then fade away, defeated by the inner cold.

Twinkling eyes surveyed the scene, and came to rest on Harry. He felt himself pulling away from the sympathy and sorrow; it threatened to melt the ice that held everything in.

"Harry, my dear boy, how are you?"

"I—"

"How thoughtless of me." Dumbledore shook his head. "I expect that question is far more difficult to answer than anything you've been asked in class. Molly, I beg your forgiveness, but I must speak with Harry in private."

"Of course, Albus. Harry, show the headmaster up to your room, there's a dear. You will be staying for cake?"

"If there's time, Molly. After you, Harry."

Harry silently led Dumbledore up the stairs to the room he shared with Ron.

Dumbledore looked around the room, eyes missing nothing, making small sounds of approval. Pulling out his wand, he straightened the blankets on the beds, then perched on Ron's and waved a hand towards Harry's bed. "Please, sit down."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, until Dumbledore sighed.

"Harry, there are a great many things I would change about the last year. A great many… Unfortunately, I cannot. It would be impossible to predict the effect on the future… You do understand me, I hope?"

Harry nodded, determined not to make this any easier for Dumbledore. _It's not like third year, there are too many mistakes, and… Hermione already said Timeturners won't go back that far._

Dumbledore was clearly waiting for a response.

"With respect, _sir,"_ Harry said, finally, "I said everything I care to last May, in your office." A jolt of satisfaction ran through him when Dumbledore winced at the reminder. "I don't really see why I should talk about… what happened, again—"

"Sirius left you everything, Harry. His vaults, his _house…_ Everything. And—forgive me, my boy—some of these items are of great importance to the Order."

_Of course. It's important to the Order, so I _have_ to deal with it, whether I want to or not. _A wave of sadness rose inside him, and he let it wash over his mind. Dumbledore, at least, wouldn't be trying to cheer him. _Bet Lupin wouldn't, either. I wish he hadn't gone to the werewolves; I'd rather be with him this summer. He'd understand, about Sirius. _Anywhere _would be better than… Hold on, there's a thought!_

"I want to go there."

"Harry?"

"For the rest of the summer. I want to stay in Sir… in _my_ house. It is my house, isn't it?"

"I… suppose, if Molly or Arthur go with—"

"No. I want to go on my own. Besides, it's Order headquarters, right? Not like I won't have supervision."

"It can't be—"

"I _know_ it can't be home. It's Sirius' home. But you say it's mine, now, and I want to stay there. Just for the summer. Just visiting, right?"

Dumbledore sighed. "And… the Order _can _still use the house? Even if you don't agree completely with what we're doing?"

_Don't agree… Why wouldn't I agree with something that could stop Voldemort? _"I'll stay out of the way, I promise. You won't even know I'm there."

"Very well. I will inform Molly that you'll be joining me when I leave. Pack up, say your goodbyes." He paused a moment, then continued. "Please, Harry, _talk_ to us. If not me, then someone else. We worry about you."

Harry only half heard him. A pressure he hadn't even noticed was lightening inside, and all he could think was finally, _finally, _he'd have freedom to do what he wanted. And the Black library to help. And maybe he could finally find a way to get Sirius back.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Finally got to chapter two. Been busy, neglected my writing for a bit. Anyway, there shouldn't be such a long wait for the next update.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

**Warnings:** Suicide.

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, not me. No money being made here.

**Chapter Two:  
****Alone**

_My darling Draco,_

_Our Lord grows increasingly unbalanced. The task he has set you is designed to be impossible; merely an excuse to punish you for your father's failure. It does not matter to him that Lucius was also set an impossible task. My darling boy, you've yet to be Marked. You can still escape this madman, and ally yourself with the stronger side. I know the idea is distasteful, but you must remember: it is your duty to carry on, and see that the name Malfoy survives. You must ensure that our house is remembered as the ancient and honorable family it is._

_I know it will be hard for you. You must leave behind all thoughts of your father's, and my, welfare, and be brave. You are strong, Draco my darling, and I am sure you will find some way to benefit from this twist of fate. Do not worry for your father; he has made his choices, and will spend the rest of his days in Azkaban for them. Do not worry for me; I have made my choices, and gladly pay for them if it sets you free._

_Go, my darling, be free. Dumbledore is the only one our Lord ever truly feared, until Potter was born. Go to Dumbledore, and he will protect you. Do not waste time on sentimentality. You know what to take, and what you must do. You must live, my darling, or my sacrifice is for nothing._

_Remember always that I love you above all else,_

_Narcissa_

Draco stared disbelieving at the parchment in his hand. Only years of practice at concealing his emotions had stopped him from screaming for help when he'd found his mother's body in her rooms moments earlier. It wouldn't have helped; he recognized the scent of the poison she'd used immediately. One of Snape's creations, a particularly deadly poison that didn't allow for a last minute change of heart. His mother was dead, and by her own hand, if the letter she'd clutched was to be believed. Not that he really had any choice in the matter.

Wanting nothing more than to curl up beside his mother (still warm, still some comfort there), he resolutely turned away. The first order of business was to erase any hints of her final command. With any luck, a few minutes work would buy him a few more hours to escape. He cast _Incendio _on the letter, stirring the ashes into the fireplace when it was gone. The bottle he slipped into a hidden pocket in his robes—time enough to dispose of it once he was safely away. He went through the rooms quickly, taking only what was irreplaceable. Family heirlooms, his mother's wedding ring, the key to their vault at Gringotts, and a small figurine of a snake. Made of silver with onyx scales and emerald eyes, it held the key to his continued freedom.

He could easily purchase new clothing and school supplies once he was safe. Holding back his tears, Draco brushed his lips against his mother's cheek (cool now, never warm again) and cast a glamour over her, so she would seem to be sleeping.

He cast a quick _Tempus_ charm—_good, only ten minutes lost_—and walked down the sweeping staircase to the entry hall. _Got to remember to act natural… My life depends on getting _out _of here before anyone realizes something's wrong…_

"Master Draco!"

His heart skipped a beat at the squeaky voice. Any other day, he would be irritated at the intrusion. Today, it terrified him. _Stay calm, nothing's wrong…_ Schooling his features into idle irritation, he turned to the house-elf. "What is it?"

"Master Lucius is saying no one can leave the house, sir. Master Lucius is being very clear." The disgusting creature was wringing its bandaged hands, and looked about ready to burst into hysterical tears at the prospect of stopping Draco.

He sneered. "The house, or the grounds? I can't imagine Father would deny me a stroll through the gardens." _If I can just get outside, just for a moment… _He wouldn't be able to go far, but outside he could Apparate off his father's land, and it would only take a moment to summon the Knight Bus. It was just too bad he couldn't Apparate farther, but it would be monumentally stupid to try when he'd never gone farther than the edge of the grounds before. And while he was so upset. It'd be asking for a splinching.

"I is not knowing, Master Draco. I could go ask—"

"Really? I thought Father said no one was to leave. Besides which, I doubt they would let you visit him in Azkaban."

"But—"

"Tell you what: while you're dithering, I'm going for a walk. By the time you figure out if I'm allowed to, I'll be back, and you can tell me. Right? Right."

"I should ask Mistress—"

"My _mother_ is sleeping, and asked not to be disturbed. If you really wish to go against her wishes…" Draco let his voice trail off, leaving the elf to imagine all the ways it would have to punish itself for disobedience.

The elf seemed to be on the verge of letting him leave. Draco edged slowly towards the main door. Only a few feet away, now…

A soft chime rang in the air.

_Oh, Merlin, what _now? _Why today? I don't have _time_ for this!_

_On the other hand—_

"Elf! Go find out who just came through the Floo. And don't bother me anymore, I'll be back in ten minutes."

The direct order, coupled with the house-elf's uncertainty, did the trick. With a slight _pop_the creature vanished, and Draco was free to run out the door and Apparate to the edge of the grounds. With one last look at the manor he'd grown up in, Draco stepped away from everything he'd ever known, and summoned the Knight Bus to take him to Hogwarts.

xxxxx

"I am very sorry to hear of your loss, Draco."

"Of course, Headmaster."

"And of course I shall endeavor to see to your safety, as you have requested."

"Thank you, sir."

"Forgive me, my boy, but I must ask: _why_ have you come to me for protection?"

"It was my mother's last wish."

Eyebrows raised over twinkling blue eyes. "Not a desire to do the noble and honorable thing, and join the side of all that's good?"

Draco scowled at the old fool. "No, sir. Quite frankly, I couldn't care less about this war, except that it has taken both my parents from me. And my mother didn't really give me much of a choice."

"I see. However, there is the issue of your being a minor, and having no legal guardians left. It is usual for the Ministry to take responsibility for children in your situation. Of course, I will endeavor to keep you free of their machinations. If we can keep them ignorant of your mother's death until the start of term—"

"That won't be necessary, sir." Draco placed his Gringotts key on the desk before the Headmaster. "After the Dark Lord rose, my mother took certain steps to protect me. Her will is in our family vault, and states that if I am left without a guardian for any reason, you are to be appointed. I believe she left instructions for you, as well."

"She didn't think Voldemort and his followers would be the right place for you?"

"Father said Potter could have been killed during the tournament. If the Dark Lord weren't so caught up in his rivalry with a _child,_ he could have won by now. They both informed me that I was under no circumstances to take the Mark. While I would prefer to remain neutral, I will understand if that's no longer possible."

The old man leaned back in his chair, apparently lost in thought. Draco struggled to keep his impatience off his face. Finally, Dumbledore leaned forward and spoke.

"Naturally, it is your right to remain neutral. However, if I am to offer you sanctuary, I must ask that you take certain oaths."

Draco let out his breath, letting relief wash over him without showing anything. _He's going to protect me!_ "I understand, sir. What oaths would you like me to make?"

"Please, don't enter this hastily. You must think carefully whether you can abide by your words. There are three promises I will require and, should you choose to accept my terms, those promises will be sealed with the Wizard's Oath."

Grey eyes widened slightly, the only outward sign of Draco's surprise. A Wizard's Oath would strip those bound by it of their magic, and drive them slowly into insanity, should they try to break it. Unlike the Unbreakable Vow, the magic required an equivalent exchange from the one demanding the Oath. _Fair deal… Better than what the Dark Lord offers even those who serve him willingly. Nothing I didn't expect. And I'll be safe, or as safe as I can be. _He slipped his hand into his pocket, squeezing the tiny snake figurine._  
_

"Will I be released from the Oath once the Dark Lord is gone, and his followers have been neutralized?"

"Of course."

"Then I see no problem. Shall I swear now?"

The Headmaster seemed to age suddenly, like a great weight had pressed him down. "I do wish this weren't necessary. However, if you're certain—"

"I am."

"Very well, Draco. I will bind you."

Draco silently handed his wand to Dumbledore, a ritual gesture of surrender. The elder wizard accepted it gravely, then touched the tip to the base of Draco's neck.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear to never knowingly give aid to Tom Marvolo Riddle, called Voldemort, or those working in his name."

"I so swear." A ring of copper fire sprang up around Draco, licking at his knees. He felt it pressing against him, barely warm.

"Swear to never knowingly hinder those who oppose Tom Riddle."

"I so swear." The fire turned silver, climbed to his waist. The temperature had risen a bit—not uncomfortable, but warm. _Three conditions trebles the strength; one more and my Oath is complete._ The conditions hadn't been terrible; it should be easy enough to keep his word.

"Swear that you shall never knowingly reveal, by word or deed, any of the secrets you may learn as a result of my protection."

_Last chance to back out… if I had a choice. _"I so swear."

The fire blazed gold. Draco felt the Oath melting into him, forged into his mind and his magic by the heat of the flames. As if from a distance he heard Dumbledore saying the words that bound the oath, rendering it immutable.

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, accept this Oath, given as surety for protection against Tom Riddle and his allies. Should I or my designated champion be unable to protect Draco, may his Oath be nulled. So mote it be."

The flames leapt above Draco's head and then vanished as if they had never been, leaving a gentle warmth that hummed through his blood.

_So… I'm as safe as I can be. For now. _

"Well, that's done then. One last thing before I take you to your summer residence—would you care for a lemon drop?"


End file.
